


Together, We Can Be Stronger

by lavenderlotion



Series: BAMF Pack Mom/Spark Stiles [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is a Good Alpha, F/M, I hate Gerard, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Magic Stiles Stilinski, Pack Bonding, Pack Mother Stiles Stilinski, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reference to Rape, Scott McCall is a Bad Friend, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles get Tortured, Tortue, it's implied - Freeform, pack bonds, stiles is raped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 00:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11301993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: Immeditaley after Gerard lets Stiles go, he knows what he has to do. Pack, at this moment, is the most important thing.





	Together, We Can Be Stronger

Stiles doesn’t stay long. It doesn’t hurt much, watching Lydia save Jackson with ‘true love’. It may have, if this was any other night, but really Stiles was too focused on the tightness in his chest, how his bruised ribs protested every inhale he took. His heart did hurt though, but for Derek. Stiles watched Derek realize that Scott had betrayed him, had sided with the father of the woman who killed his whole family, grandfather of the girl who's kidnapped two of his betas. Another person to twist his trust into something ugly and  _ painful _ . Something to regret God, Derek’s face screamed pain. Which, just  _ no _ . Fuck no, because that just was not fair and was not right and what did Derek Hale ever do to deserve something like that? All he had done was try and  _ help _ . Help Scott with his control, help them stop Peter, help three kids by turning them into Werewolves.

Stiles decided in that moment that too many people had hurt Derek, too many people had  _ betrayed _ him. Stiles decided this as he climbed into his jeep, whole body sore and aching.  _ Whole _ body. He’s sore in places he shouldn’t be, sore in a way that remind just how much of his innocence was lost this night. 

He decides that instead of wondering how in the fuck he is keeping it together - how in the hell he has to burst into angry tears of self-disgust - to just drive.

Honestly, it takes him longer than he’d like to admit. He has to pull over a total of four times making a ten minute drive almost twenty and when he finally gets past the front door and slowly walks to the top of the basement stairs it’s almost too much. His heart is beating too fast and he is most certainly not breathing enough and it just  _ sucks _ . It sucks because from the top step he can see not only where he had been tied up and tortured, but where he was  _ violated _ . Where he was taken (in the most primal sense of the word) by Allison’s Grandfather, as she stood upstairs. He wonders for a moment if the pleas to stop he made while being raped were so different than those he made while being tortured that she just didn’t notice. It’s a rather fleeting thought. 

He only moves when he hears a whimper. He forces himself to take a step, one foot in front of the other while he  _ tried _ , he tried so fucking hard to push the image of Gerard out of his mind. It was almost funny, in a way, that after all this it was a human who participated in such a monstrous act. He knows for a fact he’ll wake up screaming to the image of old, wrinkled hands and he’ll know that it was only a  _ human _ who ruined his life. He starts descending faster when he can see them, almost tripping down the last three steps in a haste to get to them. 

They’re still tied up, hanging almost limp, shoulders and wrists tied up tightly to the bar behind them, the wolfsbane in the rope burning into their skin and making it look raw and pink. Stiles runs to Erica first, cradling her face in his hands as her eyes struggling to open. He whispers reassurances, brushes her hair back before getting to work. His fingers are fumbling with the rope. Hell, he’s pretty sure they broke both of his pinkies. He tries to breathe, to get a fucking hold of himself but Erica is whimpering his name. He feels something warm and protective rise in his chest and thinks with almost detached brutality that he may just kill Allison for this. The warmness rises into his chest, a low burn under his skin and it’s so  _ familiar _ , exactly what it felt like when he used the mountain ash. His Spark, maybe? Whatever it is he grabs it tight in his mind, urges it into his still fumbling fingers and suddenly Erica is falling forward, all four ropes falling away at once. 

He lowers himself with her, rocking her and hushing reassurances. He makes eye contact with Boyd over her head and tries again, pushes at the warmth inside him and willing it to untie him, to get them out of there. It does, to Stiles frank astonishment. Boyd’s clearly  _ more _ surprised, falling forward and joining the hug. He lets them indulge, because frankly he has no idea how long they were there or what they had done to them, but Erica is steadily crying and Boyd has tears running down his face. 

“Up,” Stiles orders eventually, willing his Spark (that’s what he’s calling it now) to wrap around them, uses it to give him enough strength to pull and then support two werewolves. When Erica gaps in surprise he adds in a gruff voice, “You’re a wizard, Harry.”

It shocks a laugh out of Erica, but soon enough she whispers, “I’m so sorry, Batman.” shoving her face into his neck even as he gets a hand around her waist, one looping around Boyd who's on his other side. 

“Nothing to be sorry for. We need to go, you both need you’re Alpha, yeah?” Stiles tries, letting the warmth in his chest just settle under his skin, there, ready, waiting. Honestly, it felt a little amazing. Undeniably comforting, the possibility of it. He pulls them with him, supports them as they stumble up the stairs and out the front door. Luckily Allison nor Chris are back yet but Stiles’ sparks reacts pretty strongly at the mere thought of the hunters. Revulsion and hatred and  _ rage _ swirling with his … magic under his skin. He hears Erica let out another whine like noise but shushes her, presses his nose into her hair and rubbing his chin against her forehead before gently guiding the two into the back of his jeep where they immediately curl into each other.

It’s not until he’s out of sight of the Argent house that he lets his Spark go. It’s similar to a really good stretch or a nice yawn, the way it sort of slumps out of him. It’s still there, he knows now that if he needs it it’ll come, but it’s nice. With his magic so close it made everything seem … more. Brighter and louder and just more intense and now it’s like slowly sinking into a bath and letting the water cover your ears. He should maybe feel worried at how comfortable he is when he can still feel the wet spot in his boxers from where  _ Gerard _ had dripped out of him. He ignores it, like he ignores the pain in his side, his left knee, his pinky fingers, his entire fucking face and most of his right arm. 

He drives to the Depot, hoping to all hell that Derek and Isaac will be there.

Turns out Derek and Isaac are both there but also, in some interesting turn of events so is Peter and Stiles should probably be more upset about that than he is, but well, Erica and Boyd are currently hiding behind him. They are cowering in front of their Alpha and that is just not right. 

“Derek.” Stiles manages, voice firmer than he had thought it would be. The Alpha’s eyes are red, his fangs and claws both making an appearance and he looks like he’s barely in control, “I’m sorry. About what Scott did. I had no idea and I swear if I had known -” Stiles doesn’t finish, instead his breath catches because he’s so fucking angry.

“How?” Isaac chokes out and he makes an aborted move to come closer, to comfort.

“ _ Gerard _ .” Stiles spat the word, “Took them and tortured them.”

“Us.” Erica whispers against his neck.

“He tortured  _ us _ .” Boyd clarifies, gripping at Erica’s waist from behind Stiles back.

“He did more than just torture you, didn’t he?” Peter asks, staring hard at Stiles, his eyes flashing blue.

Stiles doesn’t answer, which is probably answer enough. If anyone has lost more to Gerard then himself it was the Hales. Instead he straightens his back, gently moves Erica and Boyd so they could lean on each. He walks up to Derek, trying his fucking hardest to hide the limp that  _ isn’t _ caused by his fucked up knee. He stands in front of the man, looks into his eyes and tilts his head bearing his throat. Submitting to an Alpha. His Alpha because almost as soon as he does Derek  _ whines _ , stepping forward and slowly putting his face in the crook of Stiles neck, breathing deep full breaths before biting down, breaking the skin with human teeth and licking over the mark. When he steps back his eyes are blazing red and Stiles feels the bond snap into place. Maybe because of this new, new magic he has inside of him, but he does feel it. Feels it connect to his Alpha, the one that goes to Isaac and the other to Peter. 

He steps to the side, turns back to the other bruised and bloody  _ kids _ standing amiss and says, “Your turn.”

Once Derek has bit into both of their necks with sharp Alpha teeth they all sort of come together, or in Stiles case literally  _ fall _ together. Derek catches him, ducks his face back into Stiles neck as Boyd and Erica join their hug, Isaac too after a moment. 

“Peter, get the fuck in here.” Stiles says after a minute, then there’s a warmth at his back.

He stands there, broken and bruised and bloody and so fucking violated that it isn’t even funny. But he  _ is _ surrounded by pack, his Alpha is still holding him up and it’s okay. It’s okay, in some way. He knows he’s safe, knows it in the way this Spark that he just found out is calm in his gut, how his mind quiets down in such a beautiful way and it’s okay. Stiles is nothing if not resourceful and he has a pretty good feeling his Spark is actively working to heal itself, if the way his pinky bones are moving back into place is anything to go by.

“He’s not dead.” Stiles whispers into the room, because he feels like it needs to be said, it needs to be acknowledged because he just  _ knows _ . 

“He will be.” Peter says into Stiles’ hair. And maybe that shouldn’t be as reassuring as it is, but he lets his eyes flutter shut, lets unconsciousness take hold for the first time since he woke up in a basement, tied up and innocent. 

**Author's Note:**

> SO WOO! I've been reading a lot of Pack Mom Stiles Stilinski lately and in all honesty, I LOVE IT! this is a brand new series I'm doing, I already have the next few installments planned out! i have another story that im planning out as well and I am so so so so fucking excited for that one!! holy JESUS! its going to be fun!  
> I am offically ALL DONE HIGHSCHOOL WHICH MEANS I HAVE ALL THE FREE TIME! I am so going to try and write more, because I love to write and really really want to do it more! so here it goes, wish me luck on this series!  
> IF THERE IS ANYTHING YOU WANNA SEE IN THIS VERSE PLEASE COMMENT
> 
> [my tumblr!](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)


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